Better Than You
by xscarredx13
Summary: When Aizen rechooses his Espadas, he picks his Septima because of her healing abilities, not her power. And of course, she has to go and heal that stupid effer who thinks he's better than her: Grimmjow. Rated T for Grimmjow's fantastic language.


**This is my first time doing a Bleach fanfic. Recently, I finally got up to chapter 383. It's amazing what people can do when they have free time.**

**Anyway. Grimmjow's character has always been intriguing to me... in a totally un-intriguing way.  
****Somehow. I dunno. I love ol' Grimmy, and I was going to pair him up with Soi Fon or Nel or Ineou, but then I changed my mind.**

**So... yeah. Tell me what you think.**

**Prologue**

Carr Destinreine, new Séptima Espada, was terrified.

Or maybe not terrified. Half nervous and half angry, more like. Her fingers were clenching hard, nails digging into her palms, teeth gritted as she tried not to tremble.

"You… only… you only made me Séptima Espada to heal the others?" She hissed.

Aizen chuckled, a low and husky sound. "Heal? They're dead. I needed replacements. All that's left is Yammy, Nelliel, Grimmjow, and"—he paused, taking his time to flash an emotionless smile—"Grimmjow's half-gone. He's a piece of trash, but he's still Sexta Espada." He smiled again, his cool and steady gaze challenging her to say something.

But Carr didn't dare to speak.

Aizen tilted his head to the side. "Well? Find him and heal him!" Beside the former captain, Tousen reached for his Zanpakutō as a warning.

The seventh Espada took a deep breath, trying to calm her anger. Then, using Sonído, she disappeared.

***

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was fading. Well, he was pretty sure he was fading. He was _still _lying on the ground, and he didn't know what day it was, or how long he had been dying away.  
But Arrancars couldn't really _die_, could they? It was more of turning being blown into a million little bits, or floating away in the wind as black dust.

Speaking of dust, what the hell happened with Ulquiorra? He always thought he was better than Grimmjow, being frickin' number four, but now he was gone—probably beaten by that Hollow-driven Shinigami. The blue-haired Arrancar had felt it, just before the pain numbed him and he lost his senses.

Heh. The pain kind of tickled now.

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo. Loneliness wasn't as bad as Starrk moaned and dragged on about. It was a little depressing that Grimmjow was suffering alone, but so what? He'd always known he'd die alone.

But Grimmjow didn't want to die alone. He didn't want to die in general. He wanted to get up and cause destruction, maybe kill Ichigo Kurosaki, for portraying him as a wimp when he protected him from Nnoitra.

"Grimmjow."

Hmm. Someone was calling his name. A female voice, not as sweet as he would've liked. Rougher. Kind of pissed off.

"He must be alive," the voice mused to herself. It was strange how Grimmjow could still hear when he couldn't see or speak or smell at all. "I mean, otherwise he'd be gone, wouldn't he?"

There was a crunch of sand as the girl sat down, placing a hand on his bloody chest. Oddly, he was able feel her gentle touch, long fingers and a slightly calloused palm.

Something glowed, spreading light in front of his sightless blue eyes, causing warmth through his body.

And suddenly, he could see again. His eyelids fluttered, and a frowning Arrancar came into view. She was plain-looking, was his first woozy thought. The girl was almost totally unremarkable, with dark hair and a deep set of hazel eyes, her mask practically covering entire left side of her face. Her Hollow hole went right through her upper neck, much higher than Ulquiorra's, an empty window carved through her throat.

"Who the fuck are you?" Grimmjow growled.

The girl's eyes narrowed. "Carr," she said. "Carr Destinreine."

Catching her by surprise, he let out a loud laugh and sat up. "What kind of shitty name is that? Did you just take the last three letters of _Arrancar_ and call yourself that?"

Carr glared at him. "It's spelled with two r's, you son of a bitch. Shouldn't you be _thanking_ me for healing your sorry ass?"

Grimmjow smirked. "You wish you could have my sorry ass."

And then, like a damn human, she slapped him across the face. He froze, shocked, azure eyes glowing.

"Slap me again," he snarled, "And I'll beat the fuck out of you."

Carr only smiled and raised her hand again, challenging him.

It was then that he noticed the fancy 7 tattooed on her wrist, and his eyes widened in realization.

"Aizen built up the Espadas again, huh?"

She looked confused. "What?"

"You're the new Séptima. What the hell happened to Zommari?"

"He's… deceased."

"God, I gotta get the fuck out of here." Grimmjow stood up. He staggered for a second, then regained his balance, shooting a cautious look at Carr to see if she had noticed.

She had.

"Aizen's gonna hurt you," She said in a low voice. He merely snorted in response.

"Like I give a shit."

Then he left. Without as much as a simple 'thank you'.

That asshole.

**Review?**


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